


An Inconvenient Proposal

by Steel_Feather



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Proposal (2009)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, The Proposal AU, i know i'm terrible at titles and summaries but i think this is gonna be good, kylo is the one with the huge crazy family, rey gives as good as she gets, these kids are both fucked up so buckle in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-01 06:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steel_Feather/pseuds/Steel_Feather
Summary: Rey puts up with her boss because he's a means to an end, but her world is turned upside down when Kylo Ren receives some unwelcome news regarding his immigration status, and he decides that she could be his solution. AKA The Proposal AU that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.





	1. Chapter 1

Rey was having a frankly _terrible_ morning.

First, a late-night power surge in her shitty tenement had left her alarm clock flashing uselessly next to her bed. This led to a loud stream of cursing as she threw on a serviceable pencil skirt and blouse combo, with her only blazer layered on top, then sprinted out the door without any breakfast whatsoever, her stomach protesting quietly. Once out in the open air, she dodged and weaved like a madwoman through pedestrians and crosswalks until she reached the only approved coffeeshop in a twenty-block radius, which naturally had a line all the way out to the sidewalk.

The blond barista who always chatted with her showed her a small kindness, his head peeking out at her with a wide smile. “Rey, hi!”

She sidled past the line, giving them apologetic smiles as they glowered.

“Here you go. Your regulars,” he told her, good-naturedly.

“You _literally_ saved my life. Thank you,” she told him earnestly, already turning to go. “Thank you!”

Back into traffic she went, enduring shouted obscenities and constant honking until she reached First Order Publishing. She had to run flat-out to catch the elevator in the lobby, pushing her ballet flats to their limit, and the door caught her shoulder. The other occupants stared as she pushed away her embarrassment and the faint throb in her shoulder, trying to focus on the work day ahead. She had five minutes to spare.

The second thing that went wrong, naturally, happened right after she reached her floor, her head turned to exchange a greeting with the receptionist. The mail boy must not have been looking where he was going, either, because he collided into her spectacularly, leaving hot coffee splattered all over the front of her blouse.

_“Sweet…JESUS!”_ she roared, trying not to take her anger out on the now-stammering mail boy, who was trying his best to apologize. He made himself scarce quickly.

Rey barreled over to Jessika Pava’s cubicle; she and Jess weren’t exactly close, but they were a similar size, as far as she could tell. “I need the shirt off your back. Literally.”

She did a double take. “You’re kidding, right?”

Rey firmed her jaw, willing Jess to be reasonable. “Yankees, Boston, this Tuesday, two company seats for your shirt. You have five seconds to decide. Five, four, three, two, one.”

She was wearing the shirt two minutes later when the third awful thing happened to her.

An office group chat chimed, sending everyone scrambling out of the way with two words: _It’s here!_

Kylo Ren stalked into the office.

The third horrible event, as it happened, was that her boss had not been killed outside of work.

He walked quickly and assuredly, never slowing for the employees who darted nervously out of his way. Dressed all in black, down to his dress shirt and tie, he had matching dark hair, an unfairly tall frame, and absurdly broad shoulders. He almost seemed to block out all light.

Rey smoothed the lapels of her blazer over the new shirt before grabbing his coffee and extending it to him the instant he came through the doors of his office. He looked unflappable and intimidating, as usual, not like he had dashed about frantically in order to arrive to work on time. She found herself suppressing a stab of resentment against him.

“Morning, Mr. Ren,” she greeted him, voice overlaid with false cheerfulness that she no longer cared if he saw through. “You have a conference call in 30 minutes.”

“Yes. About the marketing of the spring books. I know,” he said, his voice deep and faintly nasally.

“Staff meeting at 9:00…”

“Did you call, um… What’s his name? The one with the horrible run-on sentences.”

“Wes Janson.”

“Yes, Janson,” he confirmed, sitting behind his desk and crossing his long legs under himself.

“Yes. I did call him. I told him that if he doesn’t get his manuscript in on time, you won’t give him a release date. Your immigration lawyer called. He said that it’s imperative…”

“Cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets.” He didn’t speak loudly, but with the haughty aura of one who expected to be obeyed. Rey resisted the unprofessional urge to roll her eyes. “Oh, and get a hold of PR, have them start drafting a press release. Ahsoka is doing _Oprah._ ”

Rey paused, impressed despite herself. “Wow. Nicely done.”

He swiveled to face his computer. “If I want your praise, I will ask for it.” She decided to get out while she still could, but only made it halfway to the door before his voice interrupted her.

“Who is Jocasta?” One could practically hear the raised eyebrow in his voice. “And why does he want me to call him?”

“Well,” she said cautiously, “that was originally my cup.”

“And I’m drinking your coffee why?”

With all the enthusiasm of a woman facing a firing squad, she replied: “Because your coffee spilled.”

“Hmm.” He took a contemplative sip. “So, you drink non-fat lattes with caramel drizzle?”

“I do,” she told him, unconvincingly. “It’s like love in a cup.”

“Is that a coincidence?”

“Incredibly, it is.” Her face felt tight, stretched and warped by the saccharine grin she was offering him. “I mean, I wouldn’t possibly drink the same coffee that you drink just in case yours…spilled.” She crossed the room to the phone as it rang. “That would be…pathetic.” He watched her with dark eyes as she picked up the handset. “Morning. Mr. Ren’s office. Hello, Armitage.”

Kylo Ren raised two fingers in a gesture she knew well.

“Actually,” she told Armitage Hux, “we’re headed to your office right now. Yeah.” She hung up. “Why are we headed to Armitage’s office?”

He had the faint smirk that he always wore when Rey referred to Hux by his first name. She suspected it made him happy for the simple reason that it made Hux _unhappy,_ but she couldn’t truthfully judge him; she did it for the same purpose.

He didn’t answer her query, only started gathering some papers together on his desk, so she dashed to her cubicle and typed out a quick message in the group chat— _HE’S ON THE MOVE!—_ before rejoining him, walking toward Hux’s office.

“Have you finished the manuscript I gave you?” she asked him.

“I read a few pages,” he responded coolly. “I wasn’t that impressed.”

She sighed. “Can I say something?”

“No.”

“I-I’ve read thousands of manuscripts, and this is the only one I’ve ever given you. There’s an incredible novel in there, the kind of novel you used to publish.”

His eyes lingered on the sight of Jess wrapping a cardigan around her coffee-stained shirt. “No use dwelling on the past,” he told Rey. “And I do think you order the same coffee as I do just in case you spill, which is, in fact, pathetic.”

“Or impressive,” Rey countered.

“I’d be impressed if you didn’t spill it in the first place.” They reached the door, and he turned to her. “Now remember, you’re just a prop in here.”

“I won’t say a word,” she snapped, going in. He followed her, a massive shadow at her back.

Armitage Hux looked up from his desk, raising a sardonic brow. “Ah! Our fearless leader and his liege. Please, do come in.”

Ren eyed a mahogany bookshelf in the corner of the office. “That’s a beautiful breakfront. Is it new?”

“It is English Regency Egyptian Revival, built in the 1800s, but yes, it is new to my office.” There was no small amount of acerbity in his voice. Rey stood rather uncomfortably to the side during this exchange, sensing some sort of subtle standoff was taking place.

“Witty,” Ren murmured drily. “Hux, I’m letting you go.”

There was a moment of silent shock. Hux looked up at Ren, while Rey glanced between the two of them, wide-eyed.

_“Pardon?”_ he asked incredulously.

“I asked you over a dozen times to get Ahsoka to do _Oprah,_ and you didn’t do it,” Ren responded calmly. “You’re fired.”

Rey hastily closed the office door, trying to prevent the entire workplace from overhearing the little drama unfolding.

“I have told you,” Hux snarled, “that is impossible. Ahsoka hasn’t done an interview in twenty years.”

Ren looked like a cat who had swallowed a particularly tasty canary. Rey did her best to be unobtrusive.

“Well, that is interesting, because I just got off the phone with her, and she is in.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t even call her, did you?”

“But…”

“I know,” he said, walking closer to Hux’s desk. “I know. Ahsoka can be a little scary to deal with. For you.” Every word was calm and cutting, final. “Now, I will give you two months to find another job. And you can tell everyone you resigned.”

Without waiting for a response from the stunned man, he swept out of the room, Rey following haplessly in his wake.

“What’s his twenty?” he murmured to her as she almost jogged to keep up.

“He’s moving,” she told him, seeing Hux pace. “He has crazy eyes.”

“Don’t do it, Hux,” Kylo whispered, almost to himself, but his lip was curled in a faintly satisfied smirk, even as Armitage Hux stalked out into the hallway behind them.

“You utter _bastard!”_ he yelled, causing every head to swivel toward him. “You can’t fire me!”

Kylo turned to him with a long-suffering expression. Rey stood at his side, watching quietly as Hux spewed more venom.

“You don’t think I see what you’re doing here? Sandbagging me on this _Oprah_ thing just so that _you_ can look good to the board?!” He was gesturing wildly with his hands; Rey wondered if he might pull a muscle. “Because you are threatened by me!” Rey heard a quiet snort from beside her, but Hux wasn’t finished digging his own grave just yet.

“And you are a _monster._ Just because you have no semblance of a life outside of this office, you think you can treat all of us like your own personal slaves.” Kylo stiffened almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t say anything. “You know what?” Hux asked. “I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you’re gonna have on your deathbed? _Nothing_ and _no one._ ” He smirked, clearly thinking he had just won a battle, as Rey watched Kylo move forward, utterly composed aside from the slight twitch in his eye.

“Listen carefully, Armitage. I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened.” A cold smile graced his lips. “No. I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time with paid escorts than you do in your office. And if you say another word, Rey is going to have you thrown out on your ass. Are we clear?” Hux opened his mouth to speak, but Kylo cut him off. “Another word, and you’re going out of here with an armed escort. Rey will film it and post it on YouTube. Is that what you want?”

No answer from the stricken ginger man.

“I didn’t think so,” Ren concluded smoothly. “I have work to do.” He turned his back and walked away, Rey hurrying to his side.

“Have security take his breakfront out of his office and put it in my conference room,” he told her.

“Will do.”

“And I need you around this weekend to help review his files and his manuscript.”

“This weekend?” she asked, thinking of her plan to spend time with Finn over his birthday.

“You have a problem with that?” he asked, his eyes hard.

“Just…plans with a friend,” she muttered. “It’s fine. I’ll cancel.” He walked into his office without responding, leaving her in a simmering stew of resentment.

 

*****

 

“I know,” she told Finn, speaking quietly into the office phone. “I’m really sorry.”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “Have I ever told you what a tyrant your boss is?”

She chuckled. “Maybe a few times. I feel so bad about missing your birthday, though…”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’m just sorry you have to spend more time with him.”

“I’ve worked too hard for this promotion,” she told him, rather fiercely. “I’ll do whatever I have to…”

Kylo Ren was walking toward her desk.

“…but we take all of our submissions around here very seriously. We’ll get back to you as soon as we can.” She hung up as nonchalantly as possible, knowing that Finn would understand.

“Was that your friend?”

“Yes,” she admitted bluntly.

“They tell you to quit?” The phone started ringing again.

“Every damn day,” she told him, reaching for the handset. “Mr. Ren’s office. Okay. Yes. Okay. Right away.” Ren was waiting as she hung up.

“Aloo and Tarkin want to see you upstairs immediately,” she told him.

He stifled a frustrated groan. “Very well. Come get me in ten minutes. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“Yes, sir,” she acquiesced, then glared at his back, and his impeccably fitted suit, as he walked away.

 

*****

 

Kylo Ren barely registered the upstairs secretary greeting him as he walked into the office he had been summoned to; he was hoping to get the pleasantries over with quickly so that he could get back to work. He highly suspected Rey would handle everything competently while he was gone, but that didn’t erase his impatience.

“Sim. Wilhuff,” he greeted them, pasting a polite smile on his face.

“Kylo, congratulations on the _Oprah_ thing. That’s terrific news.”

“Thank you,” he said, suppressing any hint of smugness. He came to a stop with his hand resting on the back of a chair, trying to nonverbally hint that he wouldn’t be staying long, and Aloo sighed lightly.

“Kylo, do you remember when we agreed that you wouldn’t go to the Frankfurt Book Fair, because you weren’t allowed out of the country while your visa was being processed?”

“Yes, I do,” he responded, curious as to where this line of questioning was going.

“And…you went to Frankfurt.”

His jaw firmed. “Yes, I did. We were going to lose Fett to Viking. So I really didn’t have a choice, did I?”

“Well, it seems that the United States Government doesn’t care much who publishes Boba Fett.”

Tarkin spoke for the first time. “We, uh, just spoke with your immigration attorney.”

“So…” he said cautiously, “Everything’s all right?” Alarm bell were beginning to go off in his head.

“Kylo,” Aloo sighed, “your visa application has been denied. And you are being deported.”

Every word dropped like a stone between them.

“Deported?” Ren asked, numbly.

“And apparently there was also some paperwork that you didn’t fill out in time,” he continued, as if Kylo hadn’t spoken.

“I’m from Canada,” he murmured, faintly aware that he was probably in shock. “I’m not some _criminal._ There has to be something we can do…”

“We can reapply,” Tarkin offered, “but unfortunately, you have to leave the country for at least a year.”

His mind started spinning with possibilities, ways that he could make the situation work. “Well, that’s not ideal, but… I can manage everything from Toronto…”

“No, Kylo.”

“…with videoconferencing and Internet, and by phone.”

“Unfortunately, Kylo, if you’re deported, you can’t work for an American company,” Tarkin told him, before Aloo picked up his train of thought.

“Until this is resolved, I’m going to turn operations over to Armitage Hux.”

“Armitage Hux?” he asked, in total disbelief. “The man I just fired?”

“We need an editor in chief. He is the only person in the building who has enough experience.”

“You cannot be serious,” he said, nearly begging. “Please.”

“We’re desperate to have you stay,” Aloo assured him. “If there was any way, any way at all that we could make this work, we’d be doing it.”

“There is no way…” Ren started, only to be interrupted by a brisk knock at the door. Rey’s head peered in, a wisp of brown hair hanging by her face where it had come undone from her artistically messy updo.

“Excuse me, we’re in a meeting,” Aloo told her, holding up a hand.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, but didn’t move from the doorway.

“What?” Ren snapped out at her, trying to keep his temper tightly leashed as he felt his world crumbling around him. His career. His reputation. Everything he had fought and clawed for over the years…

“Bazine from Mr. Ohnaka’s office called. She’s on the line…”

“I know,” he bit out tersely.

“She’s on hold, she says she needs to speak with you right away. I told her you were otherwise engaged…”

His eyes snapped to her as a small idea began to take root. Perhaps there was a way that this situation wouldn’t be a _total_ disaster, after all.

“She insisted, so… I apologize.” She lingered in the door, obviously waiting for him to dismiss her, but he was frozen, eyes locked on her face as he warred with himself.

Kylo Ren took a deep breath, and plunged.

_Come here,_ he mouthed to her. She tilted her head questioningly, so he repeated the command, crooking one long finger. She walked over to him, a thousand questions in her eyes as he turned back to Aloo and Tarkin.

“Gentlemen,” he began, “I understand the predicament that we are in.” He turned to look down at Rey, who was shifting nervously next to him. “And I think there’s something you should know.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, lightly so as not to spook her. He’d be lucky if she didn’t bolt and ruin everything.

“We’re… getting married,” he announced. “We are getting married.”

“Who is-who is getting married?” Rey asked quietly, doing a double take up at him, her hazel eyes cloudy with shock.

“You and I,” he told her, trying to nonverbally plead with her to just play along. “You and I are getting married. Yes.”

“We are,” she said in a small voice, almost questioning. “Getting married.”

Tarkin raised a brow. “Isn’t she your secretary?”

“Assistant,” Rey practically growled, glaring Tarkin down.

Kylo decided she deserved a small gesture at least. “Executive assistant,” he clarified. “But it wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretary, would it, Wilhuff?”

Tarkin’s mouth snapped shut.

“So, the truth is,” he said, making everything up frantically as he went, “Rey and I…we are just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love, but we did.”

“No,” she almost whispered, head shaking slightly. She was completely in shock, so he barreled ahead.

“All those late nights at the office, and weekend book fairs…”

“No-o…”

“Something happened,” he concluded, looking down at her with what he hoped was a sappy, loving smile. “We tried to fight it, but, uh…love won out in the end.”

The two men watching them were wearing similar expressions of amusement and faint doubt.

“So,” Kylo said briskly, “Are we good with this? Are you happy? Because we are…very happy.”

“Kylo.”

“Yes?”

“It’s terrific,” Aloo told him. “Just make it legal, hmm?” He gestured to his own wedding band. Kylo could feel Rey shifting uncertainly next to him.

“Oh,” he said, eloquently. “Legal. Well, we should get ourselves to the immigration office so we can work this whole mess out, shouldn’t we, gentlemen?” Two nods answered him.

He turned to go, shifting his hand to rest lightly at the small of her back—she was almost motionless now—and they walked silently back to his office, where he closed the door. Resolute, he turned to face her. She looked lost, searching his face for answers. He kept his mouth shut; let her speak in her own time.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she finally said.

“Relax,” he told her. “This is for you, too.”

“Do explain,” she practically growled.

“They were going to make Armitage chief.”

“So, naturally, I would have to marry you.” In another situation, Kylo would have smiled at the dry wit she seemed to so effortlessly possess. But he needed to make her understand the necessity of his choice.

“What’s the issue?” he asked her acidly. “Saving yourself for a Prince Charming?”

“For someone _special,_ yes. Besides, it’s _illegal_.”

He snorted. “They’re looking for terrorists, not book publishers.”

“Kylo.” It was the first time she had ever referred to him by his first name.

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to marry you,” she said, looking perfectly serious.

He steeled himself. “Sure you are. Because if you don’t marry me, your dreams of touching the lives of millions with the written word are dead.”

She stood stock still, her expression somewhere between confused and shattered, and he forced himself to continue, because his career was riding on the line and he had no other choice.

“Hux will fire you the second I’m gone, guaranteed.” She flinched. “That means you’re out on the street alone looking for a job. It means that all the time we spent together—all the lattes, all the cancelled dates, all the extra hours—were all for nothing and your dreams of being an editor are gone.”

He looked her straight in the eye. “Don’t worry. After the required allotment of time, we’ll get a quickie divorce and you can be done with me. But until then, like it or not, your wagon is hitched to mine. Understood?”

She wasn’t moving. The phone rang at her desk. “Phone,” he prompted her, and watched her slowly walk out in a daze.

Kylo pulled up the information for the nearest immigration office and sent her an email to be ready to depart within the hour. He wanted to get this whole ordeal over with as quickly as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I have LOVED y'all's thoughts and comments so far, and I can't wait to hear what you think of this second installment! <3 <3 <3

This wasn’t happening. There was no way this was happening.

Rey wasn’t sure where it had all gone wrong, but she had trouble denying one fact to herself: Kylo Ren wanted her to marry him.

This was insane, she thought to herself, and then remembered all the reasons she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

It was insane, and she was going to do it.

She sent Finn a single text message— _Apparently, I’m marrying Ren_ —and then put her phone into her purse before they departed for the immigration office, feeling a wry and slightly twisted sense of amusement when it began buzzing insistently.

The cab ride was silent and, on Rey’s end, incredibly awkward. She sat as close to the door as she could, making sure no part of her body touched Kylo. In the enclosed space, his body heat and his scent—something spicy and masculine—swirled around her.

On the other hand, he appeared to be completely relaxed, typing out memos and checking emails on his phone, still trying to run the office even at this moment.

When they entered the building, Rey blinked at the sheer number of people inside; rows upon rows of chairs were filled with people, and there were several long lines at the front desks.

Kylo strode forward imperiously, bypassing the line as Rey made distressed noises in the back of her throat, and cut in just as one of the receptionists called for the next person. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her when she felt all the judgmental stares on them.

He gave the receptionist a polite smile, which Rey stared at, and handed her a stack of papers from inside his book bag. “I need you to file this fiancé visa for me, please,” he told her, his smile widening to show a flash of slightly uneven teeth. Rey had to shake herself out of a moment of temporary insanity when she found the imperfection oddly endearing.

The receptionist sighed as she began flipping through the paperwork, then paused. “Mr. Ren?”

“Yes.”

She crooked a finger at them. “Please, come with me.”

They were shuttled into an office, where the receptionist told them to wait, and they sat in the uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk. Or at least, Rey was uncomfortable. Kylo Ren almost lounged, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she whispered to him. They were the first words she had spoken since they were in his office.

He opened his mouth to respond, but a thin, balding man entered the office before he had a chance, sitting behind the desk.

“Hello,” he greeted them, neutrally. “I’m Mr. Emari.” He looked at her. “You must be Rey, and you must be…”

“Kylo.”

“…Kylo. Sorry about the wait. It’s been a kind of a crazy day today.”

“Of course,” Kylo reassured him, clearly attempting to charm him. Rey thought it looked strange on him; he had little practice with it, after all. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.”

“Okay,” he said, humming as he began to flip through the paperwork Kylo had brought. “So, I have one question for you.”

His next words nearly made Rey choke on her own tongue.

“Are you both committing fraud to avoid his deportation so he can keep his position as editor in chief at First Order Publishing?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kylo said assuredly, as Rey attempted to breathe steadily. “Where did you hear that?”

“We had a phone tip this morning from a man named…”

“Would that be Armitage Hux, by chance?” he asked icily.

“Armitage Hux, yes.”

“Armitage is nothing but a disgruntled former employee, and I apologize that he wasted your time. But we know that you are incredibly busy, so if you’ll just give us our next step, we will be out of your hair and on our way,” Kylo told him, already standing as if to go.

Mr. Emari gestured to the chair. “Mr. Ren, please.”

Kylo sat.

“Let me explain to you the process that’s about to unfold,” he began, eyes lighting up disturbingly. “Step one will be a scheduled interview. I’ll put you each in a room, and I’ll ask you every little question that a real couple would know about each other. Step two, I dig deeper. I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, I interview your coworkers. If your answers don’t match up at every point, _you,_ ” he gestured at Kylo, “will be deported indefinitely. And you, young lady, will have committed a felony, punishable by a fine of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and a stay of five years in federal prison.”

Rey began to think very hard.

“So, Rey,” Emari addressed her. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

A long moment passed. Kylo was tense next to her, his hands clenching into fists before he noticed and smoothed them down his pants legs.

“The truth is,” she started hesitantly, hearing him draw in a sharp breath, “Mr. Emari, the truth is…Kylo and I…are just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love.” She looked into Kylo’s eyes and found them wide with shock. “But we did. And we couldn’t tell anyone we work with, because of my big promotion that I had coming up.”

“Promotion?” Emari asked her.

“Yes.” She felt a sense of victory at Kylo’s stunned expression. “We both felt that it would be deeply inappropriate if I were to be promoted to editor while I was dating the editor in chief.”

Emari sighed. “Have the two of you told your parents about your secret love?” he asked.

“That would be difficult,” Rey told him, “seeing that my parents are dead.” He looked somewhat chastened.

“Are your parents alive?” he asked Kylo.

“They are,” he said, slowly. “We were actually going to tell them this weekend. It’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday, and the whole family is coming together for a week-long family reunion.” Rey suspects he is putting this all together as he goes along, and he does _not_ look thrilled by the prospect of seeing his family. Interesting. “We thought it would be a nice surprise.”

“You’re going to go to Canada this weekend?”

“Yes,” Rey told him, drawing on her limited knowledge of Kylo’s family from the past four years of working for him. “Endor. It’s in British Columbia.”

“Okay,” Emari chuckled. “Fine. I see how this is going to go.” He scribbled out something on a memo pad. “I will see you both at eleven o’clock the Monday morning after next, for your scheduled interview. And your answers better be identical.” He handed Rey the memo.

“Thank you,” she told him, as Kylo rose and stalked out.

“Don’t thank me,” he said, with a toothy grin. “I’m looking forward to this one.”

 

*****

 

Kylo started talking to her as soon as they hit the sidewalk.

“So…what’s going to happen is, we will go up there. We’ll pretend that you are my fiancée, tell my parents we’re engaged. I’ll need you to book two first class seats…Rey. Why aren’t you taking notes?” He cocked his head at her.

“I’m sorry,” she told him sarcastically. “Were you not in that room?”

“What?”

She stared at him implacably.

“Oh! What you said about being promoted?” he asked, smirking. “That was genius. He completely fell for it.”

“I was serious. I’m looking at a quarter-million dollar fine and five years in prison,” she bit out. “That changes things.”

“Promote you to editor?” She nodded. “No, no way.”

“Then I quit, and you’re screwed.” She turned to walk away. “Goodbye, Kylo.”

“Rey.”

“It really has been a little slice of heaven.”

“Rey!” he hissed. “Fine. I yield.”

She turned around cautiously, one brow arched.

“I’ll make you editor. _If_ you do the Canada weekend and the immigration interview, I will make you editor. Happy?”

“And not in two years,” she pressed. “Right away.”

“Done.”

“And you’ll publish my manuscript.”

He hesitated. “Ten thousand copies, first—”

_“Twenty_ thousand copies, first run.” She glared up at him.

“Agreed,” he said. “But we will tell my family about our engagement when I want and how I want.” She nodded in acquiescence.

"Now," she said, “ask me nicely.”

“Ask you _what_ nicely?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Ask me nicely to _marry you,_ Kylo.”

He looked baffled.

“What does that even mean?”

“You heard me,” she told him, somewhat vindictively. “On your knee.”

He looked at her silently for a moment, before sinking gracefully to one knee right on the sidewalk, his dark eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t quite read his expression.

“Rey,” he began, pitching his voice deeper, “would you do me the honor of becoming my beloved wife?”

It took a shamefully long moment for Rey to calm her pulse, looking at her boss’s expressive face. She had never noticed his lips before, she realized, too distracted by his aristocratic nose and other strong features. Now, she found it hard to look _away_ from his mouth. His face wasn’t unattractive, she decided, just unconventional.

“Rey?” he asked, looking strangely unsure of himself as she snapped out of it.

“Okay.” She smirked down at him. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I’ll do it. See you at the airport tomorrow.”

Kylo Ren watched her walk away, on one knee with a somewhat awed look on his face.

 

*****

 

“Run this by me again,” Finn said, very carefully. “You are doing _what_ with your boss?”

“Apparently,” Rey told him drily, “marrying him.” She folded a pair of jeans and tucked them into her carry-on.

“Your boss.”

“Yes.”

“Who you hate.”

“That’s accurate.”

“Then I only have one question,” he concluded. “Have you _lost_ your _mind?!”_

Rey groaned and fell dramatically backward onto her bed, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know,” she said, voice muffled. “I just don’t see another choice here.”

Finn sat next to her, making comforting noises. She looked up at her best friend, the one person in the world who she could count on to always have her back, and felt reassured.

“I know it’s drastic,” she said pleadingly, “and you have more reason than anyone to distrust First Order staff, but I really want to be an editor. I’ve worked for the unreasonable bastard for four years, and I couldn’t bear to see all that effort go down the drain. Besides…you remember Unkar Plutt? My life…before this?”

“Yes,” he murmured.

“I never want to be powerless like that again,” she said, firmly. “And this is a way to avoid that possibility.”

“I hope you know I would never let that happen to you,” he told her. “But…I understand. It’s gonna be okay, Peanut.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked plaintively.

He tossed one of her tops at her. “Yes! Because, obviously, you’re going to be texting me the entire time in case he comes from a family of Canadian serial killers.”

“Oh my god, Finn,” she choked.

“What?” He grinned unrepentantly. “Considering some of the things you’ve said about him, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

She sputtered. “I haven’t said anything _that_ bad!”

“And I quote: ‘Kylo Ren is a demon from hell, specifically engineered to torment me. He’ll most likely fire or murder me before the month is up.’” He smirked. “And that was just day one on the job.”

“So long ago,” she sighed.

A sock hit her in the face. “Don’t get sentimental on me now! I’m not packing all your clothes for you,” Finn teased.

Impulsively, she hugged him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“Me too, Peanut. Just don’t kill him while you’re up there; I don’t know any decent Canadian lawyers.”

“I make no promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's a little shorter, but I wanted to leave it at a natural transition. Stay tuned for more! We're just warming up. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I live for your comments, kudos, and subscriptions! <3 Find me on Tumblr as @spacedarcys


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